


221B Valentines

by ALH1997



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:48:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23131228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALH1997/pseuds/ALH1997
Summary: Four stories featuring my O.C. Abigail and her partner Daniel, Sherlock and Molly, John and Mary and Mycroft and Greg. Written for Valentines Day 2017.
Relationships: Abi and Daniel Holmes, Mary Morstan/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Kudos: 3





	1. Abigail and Dan

**Abi and Dan:**

I woke early on this particular valentine’s day. Dan had just got back from a week away with work and after a night of passionate sex, and not a lot of sleep, we were lay curled into each other. I sighed softly and rolled over to face my boyfriend. He smiled and kissed my forehead.

“Good morning.” He said, softly, tucking a piece of hair behind my head.

“Morning.” I smiled back, “I’m so glad your home!”

“Hmm, I’m glad to be home.” He smiled coyly, “Last night reminded me what I was missing!”

I blushed, but smiled. “Well, I just wanted to show you how much I loved you.”

“Hmm, you did much more than that…” he laughed softly, rubbing his hand up and down my side.

“I do love you, Daniel Holmes.”

“And I love you Abigail McNeish.” He sat up suddenly, “I got you something.”

I sat up too, bringing the sheets up to my chest. Dan ran across the room (stark naked I might add) and brought over a little bag.

“I thought you were on a top secret MI5 mission to defend the security of Great Britain?” I asked, smiling slightly.

“Well, that mission included shopping for my girlfriend too!” he said handing me the bag. It was red with pink tissue paper inside. A single rose was poking out the top. I sniffed it softly as I pulled it out. Under the tissue paper was a little box. I opened it slowly and gasped.

Inside the box was a ring that had the infinity symbol on it. I took it out the box and looked at the inside. Engraved around the rim were the words, “Abigail and Dan- together since September 09 2011.” I looked up at Dan. He smiled.

“It’s not an engagement ring, if that’s what you’re thinking!” he laughed softly. “I’m never going to find anyone that I love as much as I love you and I want you to have this ring as a promise that I will never leave you, never hurt you. I want you to be mine and one day, when we are both ready, I will marry you. But until then, just know that I will spend every day with you, loving you, protecting you, caring for you.”

I smiled at him unable to speak.

“Abigail McNeish, will you be my valentine?” he asked, sloppy grin on his face.

I nodded, smiling widely. He took the ring out of my hand and put it on my middle finger. I then kissed him, softly. He returned the kiss, pinning me back down on the bed.


	2. Sherlock and Molly

**Sherlock and Molly:**

Two floors down from Abi and Dan’s “flat” Sherlock Holmes was awake and busy in the kitchen. Most of the time he was watched when he was in the kitchen and he admitted, he had the tendency to hide drugs around the place but know that he had the twins, he was starting to change his ways. But the real reason he was in that kitchen was that he was busy making a cup of tea and some toast for his wife- Molly Hooper. He wasn’t the type for outbursts of human emotion but Molly did something to him, changed him. Like John had said romantic entanglement would complete him as a human being and it did. He even found it fulfilling. Even if he had to comply to ridiculous customs like Valentine’s Day. He loved Molly, every day of the year. Why was this one day so important?

Still, he took the tray of tea and toast with honey and entered the bedroom. Molly was fast asleep on her side, facing the Moses basket that young Hamish was asleep in. He put the tray down on the bedside table and crouched down so that their faces were level. Gently, he stroked the side of her face. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled when she saw Sherlock, looking at her with his brilliantly blue eyes.

“Morning Sherlock.” She said, sleepily.

“Morning Molly.” He smiled at her, kissing her forehead. Molly sat up and her eyes fell on the tray on the bedside table.

“Oh Sherlock!” she smiled. “I thought you didn’t do Valentine’s day?”

He smiled, “I don’t. The whole ‘roses are red; violets are blue’ thing. Not for me. The statistical chances of you finding someone with whom you can tolerate a lifetime are incredibly low, so you should spend your time on something more constructive than a feeble attempt at attracting a short-term romantic partner.”

Molly’s mouth fell open.

“But not you Molly, not you. We’re friends, my friend, my best friend. I know my brother thinks I’m above all of that but I’m not. I love you Molly Hooper. I love you and I mean that, more than anything. You do count. You’ve always counted and I’ve always trusted you.”

“I love you too Sherlock. I love you so much and for much longer than you loved me. But you have given me two beautiful children, a step daughter, a home and a family. I feel safe when I’m with you. I know that you are safe and I’m thankful for every dat that I get to spend with you. You mean the world to me.”

Sherlock smiled and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Molly bit her lip. Sherlock moved in to kiss her neck when a piercing cry split the air.

“Happy Valentine’s Day Mol!” Said Sherlock, settling for a kiss on her cheek before moving to the Moses basket and lifting out his son.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” she smiled back, reaching up and stroking her son’s cheek.


	3. John and Mary

Sandwiched between the two couples were John and Mary. They had only been married a few months but they were as happy as anything. Mary was pregnant with their child and John was ready to put the misery and hurt of the last few years behind him. He rolled over in his sleep and found that his wife’s side of the bed was empty. He rubbed his eyes slowly and groaned as he sat up. He definitely wasn’t a young man anymore. He pulled his dressing gown off the back of the bedroom door, put it on and, tying the string round the middle, he left the room.

His feet padded softly over the carpet down the hall. In the small kitchen he found his wife making coffee and what looked and smelt like pancakes. The sun came in through the window and caught her golden hair like a halo. She was his vison of perfection and all the lies and horror of the past weeks seemed to dissipate and all he knew know was how much he loved her. She was so immersed in what she was doing that she didn’t hear John walk up behind her and wrap his arms around her. She smiled and gasped when she felt him behind her. John kissed the side of her neck softly.

“You weren’t there when I woke up.” He muttered softly.

Mary smiled and turned to face him, “I wanted to make you breakfast.”

“I had other ideas.” He said, smiling at her.

“I know you did but you might need some food for that.”

“Hmm, you drive a hard bargin, Mrs Watson.”

“Good!” she replied, turning back to the stove. John went and helped himself to coffee and smiled as he watched his wife, flipping pancakes. Then he noticed the shape of them.

“Heart-shaped pancakes?” he asked.

“Well, it is Valentine’s Day after all!” she said.

“I know, but isn’t it…”

“What?”

“Tiny bit cheesy?” he asked, smiling.

Mary looked up at him “John Hamish Watson. I may be a secret assassin that married an ex-army doctor who solves crimes with a drug addict but if there is one thing that I am not, its cheesy!”

John held his hands up in a mock defence. “Ok! I’m sorry, your honour for accusing my super smart, yet super sexy wife of being cheesy. I’m guilty as charged!”

“You know,” said Mary, coming round the counter and putting her hands around his neck, his hands found her waist, “I reckon you were wrong. Sherlock’s not the drama queen, you are.”

John kissed her softly. “I love you, Mary Watson!”

“I love you too, John Watson, forever and always.” She smiled. “And Happy Valentine’s Day.”


	4. Mycroft and Greg

**Mycroft and Greg:**

Across the city from Sherlock, Molly, John, Mary, Abi and Dan, a government official was fast asleep, curled up next to a Scotland Yard detective inspector. Mycroft, like his son Daniel, had been away for the past week and so most of their night had been spent catching up, both physically and by just talking. It hadn’t been until half five in the morning. They soon realised this was a mistake.

“Pop, Pop, wake up!” came a small voice, followed by the sound of small feet pattering across the floor leading up to the bed.

“Oof!” Greg Lestrade made a sound like a cushion being deflated as his five-year-old daughter jumped on him. He was awake now.

“Pop. Look. I made you something!”

Greg opened his eyes slowly, cringing against the light. Maybe scotch at half three wasn’t a good idea. He could make out a red card that was covered in pasta and glitter.

“I made you a valentine!” she said excitedly, “And I made one for Dad too.” Alex Lestrade-Holmes looked over at the lump that was her dad’s partner. Greg poked the lump and it groaned.

“What?” said Mycroft Holmes, turning over to face Lestrade, “We were up until the small hours of the morning. What could be so important that you would wake me up?”

“Alex made you a valentine!” he said, softly, running his hands through the younger man’s hair.

“A what?” he asked, slowly sitting up.

“A valentine, Daddy, I made you a valentine card at school.”

“How sweet.” Said Mycroft, rubbing his head. Greg got the cynicism in his voice and elbowed him. “I mean that’s lovely, Lex, lovely.”

Phoebe smiled at the nickname that Mycroft had for her. No-one else was allowed to call her that but Mycroft. Even though she found him cold and distant at times she really liked him and she really liked the way he took care of her dad.

“Hey, Lexie, could you go and put the kettle on?” asked Mycroft, resuming the rubbing of his temple.

Alex nodded and complied, running off to the kitchen, humming something.

“Let’s not do that again.” Mycroft said flat out.

“Do what?” asked Greg, sitting himself up.

“Sex, talking and scotch at half three in the morning all in one night.”

Greg smiled. “Oh yeah. Maybe not.”

“No.” said Mycroft. “I don’t think I could stand it.”

Greg smiled, “But it was fun.” He kissed Mycroft softly, “And I’m so glad your home. Partly because I was fed up living with Sherlock, but mostly because I missed you.”

“I missed you too Gregory. So very much.”

“Oh yeah… how much?” said Mycroft seductively.

“Hmm, I could show you again…”

“I’d like that…” said Mycroft, leaning in.

“Daddy, the kettle boiled!” Phoebe said from the door.

Mycroft sighed, “Maybe three am make out sessions are the way forward!”

Greg got out of bed, “Happy Valentine’s Mike, happy Valentine’s!”

THE END


End file.
